Jamieson Wolf

Chapter Fifty-Nine – Page of Swords

January 9, 2026 by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I lost myself to the night.

I could hear the fire and drumming behind me as I walked the pathways to my tent. The release at the fire had left me revitalized but also exhausted. I had been holding on to so much that it was a blessing to let go. At the same time, I wanted to fill the empty parts of me with something so that I didn’t feel so empty.

Strolling without any purpose, it was a while before I noticed the footsteps behind me. “Jamison, hold up.”

Turning, I saw that it was a man I had seen around the Pagan brunches named Soph. He had always been nice to me. He had shoulder length brown hair and kind brown eyes. As he made his way towards me, I saw that he had dressed for the fire. He was wearing a sarong with a belt fastened around his waist. From the belt came the sound of bells as he ran. The sarong was a rust-colour that took on the colour of the night and his flashlight as he made his way toward me. He had painted his upper body in sparkles. As he came closer to me, he slowed down and smiled at me, his teeth looking bright in the light from my flashlight.

“Jamieson, hi.”

“Hi Soph.”

“I saw you leave the fire. Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure,” I said. My walls were down and gone again and I was afraid of what that would mean for me. I was curious to know what Soph wanted from me; we had barely spoken a few words to each other. I don’t think he realized how much I said in that one word. I reminded myself that not everyone was there to hurt me unless I let them.

“Cool,” he said.

Reaching out he took my hand and I let him. It was the first time that I had let another man hold my hand or get that close to me since Francis. It felt good just to let someone get that close to me, especially since I now had little standing in the way between the two of us.

We let our flashlights light up the path in front of us. We could hear the sounds of water lapping against the rocks nearby and I could hear our breathing, the crickets in the plants that lines the path. The sound of my heartbeat got louder in my ears, and I wondered if Soph could hear it too. Every time I looked over at him, he smiled and I felt myself smiling back, despite my fear.

We stopped walking and Soph pointed up to the leaves of the trees. “See?” he said. “The moon is full. We always try to have the fire dancing at the same time as the full moon. That way people can really let go and if they fuck up and get stupid, they can just say that the moon made them do it.”

I laughed despite myself. The joke had caught me so unawares and it was so true. I had witnessed many people hooking up around the fire. “I wonder if they’ll remember.”

Soph let out a snort. “Maybe not…” He looked uncomfortable for a second before speaking again. “I want to remember this night. It must be the fire, but I can’t believe that I’m being brave enough to speak to you.”

It was my turn to feel uncomfortable. I scuffed my feet in the dirt. “What do you mean? You could have just talked to me anytime.”

“Yeah, but you’re so…you.” I looked at him with confusion, and he ran his hands through his hair and but his bottom lip. His eyes looked wide in the light from our flashlights. “That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“No, it’s not. I mean, crap. Let me start again.” Taking a deep breath, he took my free hand again and held onto it. “I’ve liked you for ages. Then you got with Francis and I should have spoken up or said something before now. And now you’re sad and I can’t stand it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I listened to the water for a moment and the sound of our breathing. I could feel Soph’s heartbeat in his fingers and his heart was beating quickly. Mine matched his and I was able to listen to my heart beating in tandem with his.

The fact that he would feel this way about me floored me. I never considered that people I didn’t know very well had chosen to like me even though we hadn’t shared a conversation. “Thanks,” I told him. I meant to stop there, but my mind had other ideas. “But you don’t need to worry about me.”

He shook his head. “I’m always going to worry about the people I like.” He paused and took in a breath that looked to contain courage because he forged on despite his nervousness. “I like you, Jamieson.”

We shared a kiss under the moonlight. His lips were completely unlike Francis’. Soph’s lips were soft and welcoming, and we explored the depths of each other with our tongues. For a moment, I had a notion that I was being unfaithful to Francis.

Soph must have felt something in my lips or intuitively felt something because he pulled back from me slightly. “I just want to give you a different perspective on things. You need to remember that you are beautiful. I want to help you remember that.”

I almost shrunk back from him. It was in that moment I realized how much damage Francis had done and how much self-doubt that he had left me with. I had been making it myself, building the chains one link at a time. If I squinted my eyes and looked to the left and right of me, I could see the rows of chains the dirt path, snaking their way behind us.

“I’d like that,” I said. He must have head my heartbeat increase because he smiled at me and his teeth flashed in the darkness, the light from our flashlights lighting the way back to his tent. I took his hand and let him lead me to his tent.

He entered the tent before me and I followed. I turned to zip the tent and could see a flash of metal, the chains had fallen away. I zipped the tent closed and turned my mind to other things and the gentle hands of a man who only wanted to make me feel beautiful.

Chapter Fifty-Eight – 10 of Swords

December 28, 2025 by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life

That night, I found myself by the fire.

We had set up our tents and cooked our food. It was a communal affair, people that Lisa and Sophie knew stopping by the fire to say hello and share food. Others would come and share their mead with us or a cigarette. The sound of fires crackling mingled with the low music of people talking. The fire of voices could be heard as everyone enjoyed their food and the joy of being together.

It was unlike any experience with food I’ve ever had. Normally, food was a means to an end to fill a void when I noticed that it was there. I had gotten so used to not eating enough. I didn’t need to. This was the first time that I realized food could be healing. More than the food, it was the people who made it and shared it with us. We shared with those that stopped by our campsite. It wasn’t much, just a spare piece of chicken or a toasted bun, perhaps a cigarette to help the words flow past the lips, but that wasn’t the point.

Every meal was like this, the entire camp taking the time to really eat, share and palaver. With each meal, a part of me was able to let go of one of the bricks that I carried with me. I watched as each person that sought use out and shared food with us took a brick from my wall. Each would make something different with the bricks; in their hand, one of the pieces of my wall would become a piece of food to give to another, or a cigarette that would send the smoke to the sky that was darkening as the day went on.

I watched as stars began to appear and I had never seen them shine so brightly. Living in the city, I could see them, but a lot of the time there was this film of fog over them. Here, in the arms of nature, the stars could show me how beautiful they really were. I don’t know if it was the lack of pollution or the magic in the air, but the stars were lit from within. They were jewels in the sky and thought I would be able to just reach up into the black velvet sky and pluck one to keep with me.

I could smell fire. Lisa tool hold of my hand and said two words. “It’s time.”

I knew that she spoke of the fire. She had told me all about it as we planned and packed and during the ride up in the car to the island. “It’s this primal force, Jamieson. Imagine a fire as big fire, at least twenty feet across. Hundreds of people dancing around it as groups of others play their drums! Picture it, Jamieson! You have never seen anything like it!”

And indeed, I hadn’t. Though Lisa, Sophie, Fox and Jenn had given me their impressions of the fire, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw as we rounded the turn in the dirt path and came upon the fire. It seemed bigger than what I had imagined, impossibly big and I could see sparks that filled up the night sky, dancing with the stars.

I could hear a wind that spoke higher than the fire. It called to me, welcomed me to fire and the flames danced higher as the breeze took hold of the flames. I was pulled by it into the crowd of people already circling the fire. They had painted their bodies with sparkly paint, draped feathers in their hair and had hung bells around their necks and writs. One woman had painted over her nipples with red and gold sparkles. She had red hair and it reflected the actual flames in front of her it looked as if her hair was made of fire. She held out a hand to and I took it. I took it, knowing that I was making a choice.

I took her hand, knowing that it would leave me changed. I didn’t want to run from myself anymore. The smoke, flame and the music of people’s voices were a music to me that was soon joined by the sound of more drums. I swirled into the flow of the people, the light turning all of us into spirits, made of wind, fire and flame. The light transformed mc in that moment; as I danced, I moved with the others and let myself feel the thrill of the music. I danced and moved with the others, others singing out loud with the music, filling the air with magic and sound.

I lost myself to the beat and the thrum of the drums, the feeling of the air moving around me. I let myself be free of the weight I was carrying and the need to keep myself separate from everyone else as if there was something wrong with me. Someone handed me a bottle of mead, and I took a health swig of the liquid before handing it back with thanks.

I danced so that I could be free enough to fly. I gave myself over to the air and release what was holding me back. I let my mind go and soon, there was only the dance and the beat that moved me. Looking up into the night sky, I saw the stars playing hide and seek with the smoke from the fire and I knew that I would be okay.

Chapter Fifty-Seven – 9 of Swords

December 24, 2025 by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

My first impression of Kaleidoscope was one of joy.

When our car drove up to the camping site, there were already hundreds of people that had arrived earlier that day. They milled about in the hot summer sun wearing whatever they pleased. There were men wearing dresses and skirts, women wearing leather and others wearing loin cloths and sandals. Others were wearing feather boas with sparkle paint all over their bodies and they glittered in the sun. I watched them move and the blinking of the sun made it look as if they were filled with light.

I heard people calling out to each other and I wanted to jump out of the car and throw myself into this world at the same time that I wanted to hide away in the car. The will to experience the rhythm won out and I knew that I wanted to lose myself in the crowd.

My body was vibrating with possibility and the smoke coming from my cigarette was dancing with the music I could hear in the air. As we parked, I opened the car door and stepped out into summer heat, I could hear drum music playing somewhere in the distance, the sound of people talking and somewhere nearby, a person singing along with the beat of the drums. The air around me was filled with magic. The chill that had been within me since Francis melted a little as I stood there letting the sun shine down on me.

Soon, we had gathered all of our bags and food and were trying to find our way in what was known as tent city. I felt disoriented by the sea of coloured surfaces, walkways and paths. I kept looking around me, trying to commit everything to memory.

“Don’t worry,” Lisa said. “You’ll get used to it. By the end of the week, you will be able to find your way from the swimming hole back to the tent. I know it doesn’t seem like it now but trust me. The land here takes care of us if we take care of it.”

Lisa had found me a space near her tent. That way, we could wake and make breakfast over the open fire together. Lisa’s boyfriend Carl had arrived before us and had chosen a really wonderful group of plots that were close to the portable toilets. “This is where you want to be,” Lisa said. “Trust me, you don’t want to be trying to find the washroom in the dark when you gotta go. This here is prime real estate.”

I hadn’t camped such a long time. Lisa had lent me nearly everything. I had a tent that would old three people, a lantern to keep the tent lit and to help me find my way to the washroom and an extra flashlight. I had brought my book, a journal and a few pens and my roll of foam. It had provided me comfort for so long and it was nice to have a touchstone, something that had provided me comfort for so long.

I didn’t do well with fear and I was terrified. I didn’t know what was involved in a spiritual reset, but I knew that it was going to happen here, I just didn’t know what it would involve. Even though I was afraid, I had to try and see this through.

After setting up my tent and laying out my foam and sleeping bag, I changed out of my jeans and into a sarong, a flowing piece of fabric that I wrapped around myself like a towel. Sophie had said that Pagan people could be a little bit freer on the island. I figured I was willing to ty anything once. I came out of my tent, my sarong fluttering in the breeze and my purse comfortable. It carried my wallet. Lisa said she saved all year for Kaleidoscope. “There are vendors all over the place, Jamieson. There are the mead people who make and sell their own mead. They’re always popular, but there are all sorts of craftspeople. Some of them make charms, cloaks and wands, jewelry and headpieces. There are all kinds of different foods on offer, too. Think of it like an open-air market. I found the most amazing oracle deck here once. Have you ever used Medicine Cards? I got my deck here two years ago with the bear claw pendant I wear.” I had seen the pendant shaped like a bear paw that hung next to her pentagram. “They sell all kinds of things here. You never know what you’ll find.”

I was hoping to find myself. I had lost or given away pieces of who I was. If I stood still long enough in the sunshine, the light would find its way through the cracks of me. If I looked down at my body, I could see the fissures and fault lines shining gold.

We walked along the main road of the campsite that threaded its way through the entire place. The vendors were set up there underneath the trees so that they were in the shade. Lisa introduced me to all kinds of people that I had never met before and even a few people that I had met but didn’t know too well. It was overwhelming to meet so may people and try to remember so many names, but I knew that I would remember most of them eventually.

Like the land, the people here would become familiar after a time. I just wondered when that would be. I tried to let the wall that I carried around with myself down a little. I had visions of having no wall at the end of the week. I didn’t know if that would happen, but I could dream. Even though the wall hurt me to carry, I had to keep a piece of it. I could never give all of myself to anyone else. Francis had taught me that I had to keep a piece of myself hidden within the depths of who I was.

As I walked along the path where the vendors were, taking in the sights of what was on offer, talking to the other people I met, I imagined that I was leaving a trail of blood behind me, the drops looking like rubies in the sunlight.

Chapter Fifty-Six – 8 of Swords

November 19, 2025 by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I looked at the world around me.

I wondered how I fit within it and where I belonged. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I was between two places, where I was and where I wanted to be. An itch had started underneath my feet, and I didn’t know what it meant. I had chosen to stay. I would help Lisa through the birth of her child and then think of what I wanted to do.

The only problem was, I didn’t know what that was. What was after this? I felt stuck and not stuck at the same time, as if my body, mind and spirit all wanted different things and the only thing that I could think of doing was remain in place. I looked at Lisa and the life that she was growing within her and my life before, now and after. I had no idea where I was going. Lisa was fine with this life, but I felt like it didn’t fit me anymore. Yet, I was afraid of what would come after.

I felt damaged after Francis. It was as if by setting me free, he had taken all the confidence he had given me, too. I had felt like I could do anything but now I didn’t know how to. I was unsure of how to move forward. Francis had made a move for himself and left me behind to flounder in the dark.

I don’t know why I was having so much difficulty making space for myself without Francis. I knew that we were done and that there was no going back and nor would I want to. He hadn’t given me the respect that I had deserved. I felt lost and uncertain about where I was supposed to go and what I was supposed to do now.

It was Sophie that gave me the answer.

“You look like you need some kind of reset.” She told me.

We were at one of her dinners. Fox, Lisa, Jenn and a few others were there. We were sitting in the living room after dinner and Sophie pointed at me. “You have this look of a rabbit about your eyes, and you don’t know which direction to go in.”

“I’ve noticed it, too.” Lisa said. “I knew that you needed some space after Francis was such a dick, but it’s been a while.”

“Gods, was it that obvious?” I said. “I felt like I was hiding it pretty well.”

Lisa snorted out loud. “If you mean by hiding it that you’ve been wandering around our place looking for something you haven’t even lost, then you’re doing a good job of it.”

I felt my spirit sag within me. “I’m sorry,” I told them.

Jules, a new person to the group, took my hand in hers. “You don’t need to apologize. Fuck, when my last boyfriend and I broke up, I was a fucking mess for a year. Just because you know you’re done with the relationship doesn’t mean you’re done with the grief. That shit takes time.”

“What do I do in the meantime?” I asked the group.

“I just told you; you need a spiritual reset.” Sophie said.

“What kind of reset?” I asked, almost in a hushed whisper.

“I’ve already talked about it.” Lisa said. “We need to take you to the Kaleidoscope Festival.”

“Ugh, camping?” I said.

“It’s not as bad as all that. You’ve never camped with a bunch of pagans. Picture it, there are hundreds of us all camping at this site. There’s booze, magic and firelight.” The light in Lisa’s eyes shone and I knew that she was travelling back Kaleidoscope’s from her past. “There is magic all over the fucking place. Nothing I can say will do it justice, it’s something that you have to experience.”

“Besides, you’ve been wanting to immerse yourself in magic.” Jenn said. “Kaleidoscope is the way to do it. It’s a powerful place.”

I knew that I needed to break out of whatever funk I was in. If Kaleidoscope was the place for a spiritual reset, then I was going. Anything was better than the state I was in. I knew that it was all in my mind, that I wasn’t disposable and that there was a light inside me that desperately wanted to grow bright again.

I would nurture that weak flame until I could find the fire.

The Forest in the Mirror – My Journey with Tarot

November 17, 2025 by Jamieson Wolf, posted in Tarot, Tarot Deck Reviews, Tarot Decks, Tarot Writing, Thoth Tarot

I don’t think there will ever be a last tarot deck.

I’ve come to realize that as much as I love reading tarot and delving into the different facets of myself, I love collecting new tarot decks and other tarot related creations that call to me. With each one I find, be it a deck of Tarot, Oracle, Kiper or Lenormand cards, it’s like I’m finding a part of myself.

Tarot has become a part of how I breathe and that breath changes focus over time. There are times when I feel like I need strong guidance and wise counsel and other times when I need a soft and gentle hand to guide my way. I always find myself going to different decks for different situations. I’ve tried to stick with only one deck, and I did for a while. My first deck was The Ancient Egyptian Tarot by Clive Barrett. I love the mysticism that Egypt holds and using those cards was like communicating with a deeper part of my spirit. The Ancient Egyptian Tarot was with me during one of the most difficult times in my life and is part of me.

After a break from card slinging, I learned to read tarot again with the Thoth Tarot and after I spent a lot of time with those cards, I needed to find a different path for myself. My path with the Thoth Tarot ended badly, though this had nothing to do with the cards themselves, but the person who taught me to read with them. I wanted to find comfort after a difficult time and knew that I had to walk away from the Toth Tarot. It was too wrapped up in who he was. I backed away from Tarot because of my experiences with the deck and my teacher. I still felt that I needed some kind of guidance and found myself turning to Oracle cards.

I found myself drawn to The Enchanted Map Oracle by Colette Baron-Reid. They were a revelation at the time and provided me with soft comfort and much needed advice that I needed to turn my mind around and to not just focus on the positive but find a way to let go of the negativity so that I could see the path in front of me clearly. I had no idea that my path would lead me to meet Colette with my friend Christine. I consider myself lucky that I got to meet Colette, but the shine that I felt followed her dulled after meeting her and so did my love for her cards.

There were other Oracle cards that were able to guide me through what I was going through, but I was itching to find another Tarot deck. I love Oracle cards, but Tarot would always be my first home.

When a friend gave me The Wild Unknown for Christmas, it was like I had found a piece of myself that I had given away a long time ago. I was hesitant picking up another tarot deck after what had happened with the Thoth Tarot. However, after a time with so much darkness, it was like finding light in the shadows, and Kim Krans uses colour to great effect within the art of The Wild Uknown, using the shadow to show how powerful a spot of light or colour can be.

It is the deck that I always return to, no matter how many decks I own. It’s where I feel most at home. The Wild Unknown is the deck that somehow gives me breath in a world where I sometimes don’t feel like I can breathe. I have three cards tattooed on my right shoulder so that I can carry them around with me: the Ace of Wands, Strength and the Ace of Swords. Every day, they remind me what I can create, how I can overcome and what I need to cut away.

Even so, as much as The Wild Unknown holds a part of my spirit, it likes to wander and find itself in new places. I’m always drawn to find a part of myself in something new and if it has gilding on the edges, I’m gone. I have always been a sucker for shiny things. After experiencing The Wild Unknown, I was drawn into the world of Prisma Visions. The Wild Unknown Tarot helped me through a period of growth where I became completely myself and opened me up to what was possible. The world of Prima Visions Tarot was an explosion of colour that lit up the dark and showed me what my world could look like, and it was a world that I wanted to explore. I felt like with each card that I was being drawn into a world where there was finally balance between the light and the dark. I found those cards when I needed to let myself shine because I didn’t want to hide who I was anymore. Those cards showed me that it was okay.

I could go on, but we would be here for a while. When people ask me how many decks I have, I truthfully don’t know the answer. I would wager somewhere between one-hundred or two. There have been decks that have been sold to others or given away to one of my friends who were in need of a little bit of wisdom, but other than that, they have stayed.

I’ve always thought of Tarot cards like doors, they invite into a world of the artists creation. The person who has created the deck is alive within each card, each pigment, each sword, pentacle, cup or wand. The decks that call to me are often at random or ones I’ve been told about, or I spot them on my journeys in stores (both mortar and online). If I know that the store sells Tarot decks, that’s the first thing I go to look at. I almost always find something to take home.

It’s not about just buying a new deck. There must be some kind of spark or story, waiting to be unravelled and lived in. I’m a firm believer that Tarot decks are spirit keepers. I write and paint. I know that a little bit of the magic that I create lives inside each of my paintings. My books always hold characters that are parts or pieces of me, every writer does this. Our lives and imagination inspire the rest.

I think that tarot decks are like that, too. The decks always hold the spirit of their creator. They’ve had that vision, that idea, that story that had to be told with tarot cards. They are world creators, giving their idea a canvas to live out their tale, to hold the energy that they want to imbibe the deck with. Every time I open a new tarot deck that called to me, I am opening a door within myself that has either remained closed, or I didn’t know was there in the first place. I usually sit with a tarot deck, flipping through the cards and letting what I see tell me a story. Then I sit and read the guidebook, so that I can see further into the forest. The guidebook gives me the bones of the deck. It is, after all, the deck creators’ story and vision. They take the forest of cards and help to bring them to life.

My tarot collection of tarot decks has become something more. It’s like each deck is a page in the book that tells my journey, mirroring a different part of my path. It’s a large book that I have compiled, much like a tarot deck that is really a book filled with mirrors. I’ve always used tarot for personal reflection and growth, and each card is a reflection of who I am, that’s how I’ve always seen them at any rate. These decks that have been created with care by so many different deck creators and artists. They may have created a forest to lose myself in, but it’s my intuition that gives me the light to shine through.

Either way, I’ve come to realize that there will always be a new deck that catches my eye and tugs at my spirit. I know this and I’ve come to a good place with it. I know that with each year that passes, there will be many more pages to add to the book of my life.

I recently donated upwards of sixty decks to a charitable foundation. This frees up space a little and it was good to go through the decks that I have and I was able to say goodbye to them and thank them for helping me find different facets of myself. I know that even though I just got rid of a lot of decks, that there will never be a last deck. There is always something that I can learn about myself and the road that I am on in this life.

I can’t wait to see where the cards will take me next.